


Pirates of the Yangtze

by ValentinesValentine (UnfinishedProject)



Series: Fallout February (Reddit Daily Prompts) [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedProject/pseuds/ValentinesValentine
Summary: February 1. Sword: The sword is a symbol of conflict, but also a weapon of defense. How will your character protect themselves today?
Relationships: John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Fallout February (Reddit Daily Prompts) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621144
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Pirates of the Yangtze

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I'm writing John, as you can see I had no idea what I was doing.

"You just have to break into everywhere, don't ya?" Hancock was leaning against the metal wall by the door, twisting his knife between his fingers without any sign of interest or will to help in picking the lock. Nora only broke her attention for enough time to send him a glare, carrying a threat about the night rather than conveying her frustration. After a few more seconds of scratching there was a soft swearing; the bobby pin bending and becoming useless — at least it didn't break clogging the lock. She pulled another from a pocket, fidgeting around for almost a minute before the lock gave in and opened with a clicking sound.  


"And you just have to complain every time you can't stare at my ass, right?" She straightened with an eyebrow cocked; so used to his eyes roaming her body that she barely noticed nowadays. John's face was full of smug confidence, or what she came to call so, making her roll her eyes even before he would answer; whatever it would be, it would be something ridiculous. Yet it couldn't wipe the smirk from her lips, not even when she brushed a small kiss against his lips; a measly reward for his patience, John would probably say if she asked — good thing she didn't.  


"Oh, believe me, I had a pretty fine view." Tucking away his knife, he still had time to grab onto her ass before she turned back to the door. She pulled it open, cautious to make as little sound as the old door allowed; no need to attract more of the ferals that plagued the submarine. Her fingers danced against the wall, the light flickering on a moment later.  


"Well, not exactly what I hoped for." She stepped inside first, the small room hardly deserving of the title _Armory_. There were a few swords, the likes of which Nate had one as a grotesque souvenir, a few rounds for Chinese weaponry and a grenade box that was empty. It wasn't worth the time or bobby pins. Her finger ran along a blade, surprised it hasn't rusted in the two hundred odd years since it was forged. She heard Hancock pick up one of the swords; turning around in his hand if the glints of reflected light were any indication.  


"What? Decorative swords ain't your fancy?"  


"John..." Nora was tired after the hunt for ferals in the tight space of the submarine and she had no will to entertain Hancock's ofttimes draining sense of humor. She turned back to him with a pout already forming on her lips, ready to ask him to stop dicking around but a chuckle spilled from her lips. Hancock stood there with his back straight, posing with ridiculous pride, overconfidence or vanity just for the sake of it and that smirk which only meant his thoughts were far from innocent — not as if he was too capable of those, anyway. "You'd made a fine pirate back in the day."  


"Is that so? If I'm a pirate, what would that make you?" He cocked his tricorn back on his head, leaning down with the smirk in place and a lecherous stare that let her know what kind of thoughts were exactly brewing behind those black eyes. The tip of the sword she observed before stopped him from getting closer, a smirk matching his own curling her lips.  


"The captain of the ship you're serving on, mate." Their swords clang together as she swung at him; her blow easily parried by him. They swung at each other in mock fighting for a few more minutes; Hancock taking it seriously while she was struggling with giggles the whole time. Tossing aside the sword, she peered up at him, fluttering her lashes with a coy smile. "Or you'd prefer if I were the damsel in distress? _Oh, fearsome Mr. Pirate, please, rescue me from the evil governor who took me for his bride unlawfully._ "  


"Oh, I would. And claim this _booty_ as mine for saving you." He still held the sword in his right, pinning her against the wall with his body. Fingers tangled in her hair as they kissed before sliding against the vault suit, down to her hip and thigh before circling back to her ass. She knew the gaze Hancock was giving her, it often preceded heated make-outs or hasty disrobing. She tried shoving at his chest, unsuccessful in her attempt to get him off herself; joy and anticipation draining from her features.  


"John, not now. There are still..." She only heard the growling and shambling before seeing the ghoul over Hancock's shoulder. They made a noise with the swords, she should've expected the last of the ferals to seek out the commotion — or her fresh, human scent. Her fingers dug into Hancock's shoulders, her whole body tense in his embrace. A cocky grin was all she got out of him before a wail of agony and a thud filled her ears; the decorative sword in Hancock's hand dripping with dark blood now. "...ferals out there."


End file.
